Year: 2009

Soup is better than geometry

Last night we went and picked out our Christmas tree. I don’t mean to exaggerate but it may be the best tree in the history of all our Christmas trees. To be honest, I’m a little intimidated to decorate it because I feel that my decorating abilities may be less than a tree of this magnitude deserves. I’d show you a picture of it in all its undecorated glory, but that would involve getting up off this warm couch to find my camera.

Every year at the tree lot, P and I engage in a lively discussion over what size tree we should buy. This is largely due to the fact that twelve years ago when we bought our first tree for this house, it was so big that we couldn’t get it through our front door. In my defense, I was just very enthusiastic about our nine foot ceilings and how they meant we could buy a tall tree. What I failed to factor in was a little thing called circumference. Geometry was never really my strongest subject.

I’m not even sure that circumference has anything to do with Geometry. Maybe I could write a seven step proof to figure it out. Oh wait, I forgot that there is NEVER another reason EVER in the history of your life to write a seven step proof once you barely pass Geometry.

Anyway, I need to go make sure all my lights still work because I plan to spend the better part of the day wrapping this baby with a thousand points of light. I just hope I can make it proud.

And I totally meant what I said yesterday about my intention to discuss a soup recipe. It’s been cold and rainy here all week (rumor has it we may have snow flurries on Friday which SURE WE WILL) so I’ve made all manner of soups and gumbos to help us through the long winter.

This one has been my favorite of the week. Super easy and like a warm hug on a winter’s day.

(If warm hugs were made of cheese tortellini.)

Italian Sausage Tortellini Soup

1 pound Italian sausage, casings removed (mild or spicy depending on your preference)
1 large onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
5 cups beef stock
1/3 cup water
1/2 cup red wine
28 oz. can peeled tomatoes, chopped
4 carrots, chopped
1/2 tsp. dried basil
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
8 oz. can tomato sauce
3 zucchini, chopped
8 ounces cheese tortellini
1 green bell pepper, chopped
1 tbs. chopped fresh parsley
Grated parmesan cheese for topping

Brown the sausage in a large pot. Drain all the grease except for 1 tablespoon, then add the onions and garlic and saute for 5 more minutes.

Add the beef stock, water, wine, tomatoes, carrots, basil, oregano and tomato sauce. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer for 30 minutes.

Add the zucchini, tortellini, green bell pepper and parsley. Simmer until tortellini is cooked (about 8-10 minutes). Serve in bowls topped with grated parmesan cheese.

It’s so good and you can make it even if you know nothing about concave polygons.
I originally intended this to be a post about soup

I haven’t mentioned a few things that have been going on around here lately. For instance, have I mentioned that my sister is pregnant? And due any second now? And by due any second, I mean that her due date was yesterday?

I cannot tell you how much I wanted to take a picture of her at Thanksgiving lunch, post it on the blog, and announce that my sister had ruined our Thanksgiving by swallowing the turkey whole. But I refrained since women who are forty weeks pregnant tend to frown upon a good Thanksgiving turkey joke.

So instead I’ve spent the last week being incredibly supportive and calling her every day to ask, “Hey, what’s the deal? When are you going to have that baby? Why is it taking so long?”

Sometimes I dispense helpful advice like that I heard eating eggplant parmesan can cause you to go into labor. I’m not sure where I heard it or if I actually ever heard it anywhere as opposed to just making it up in my head, but it makes me feel like I’m doing my part in trying to get my nephew to show up.

Her doctor is out of town this week, but he scheduled her to be induced this Monday if the baby hasn’t left the building of his own free will by then. I tend to think he’s going to stay put because have you ever heard of a man who leaves early when he can relax all he wants and the food is free? Plus, thanks to my brother-in-law, I’m pretty sure he’s getting a steady feed of ESPN in utero.

In other news, about six weeks ago, AJ, our dear friend and official Big Mama family photographer (I just made up that title. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have that on her official resume.) took family photos of us down at her ranch. As chief photo stylist for the shoot, I’d dressed us all in a variety of wintery attire even though it was blazing hot outside.

P walked outside in his sweater and announced, “You have me for three minutes”. We spent those precious three minutes trying to act candid and like it was perfectly natural for us to all walk through a field, throwing our heads back in laughter and dressed like we were in the Arctic Tundra instead of South Texas.

It was a tender moment.

Two days later, all of AJ’s camera equipment was stolen out of the back of her car. They got everything, including our Christmas card photos which were probably exactly what they were after. So if you receive a Christmas card that features a picture of a family walking through a field and looking very hot (I mean temperature hot, not looks hot. Just wanted to clarify. Although P was totally rockin’ his sweater.) there’s a good chance the people who sent you that card are thieves.

The good news is that insurance reimbursed AJ for everything that was stolen, except for my dream of mailing out my Christmas cards by December 2nd. It’s not like I’ve ever achieved that dream before, but THIS WAS GOING TO BE MY YEAR.

Anyway, she was in town last weekend and sweet enough to come by and take a few pictures of Caroline. I gave up on the family photo dream because, honestly, it was short notice and I didn’t feel like fixing my hair. Not to mention that P was on his way out the door to the ranch as evidenced by this picture that AJ snapped.

Oh, and did I mention that P was wearing his digital camo pants? Not that they don’t scream STYLE SAVVY because, OBVIOUSLY, they totally do.

Also, when did my daughter get to be six feet tall?

I’m pretty sure the following picture won’t make the Christmas card cut.

And I promise you this one won’t.

If you ever grow concerned that your prayer life isn’t what it should be, I totally recommend watching your child take pictures with someone else’s very expensive camera.

And after seeing this picture, I’m also praying for some type of miracle cure to even out my skin tone. My word, sun damage much?

By the way, if my sister is reading this, WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO HAVE YOUR BABY?
White hamsters can’t jump

You know why I love the internet? I mean other than the fact that it’s possible to spend an entire afternoon watching videos of squirrels dancing to Michael Jackson songs?

(Do not judge me. I was merely searching for things that might bring Caroline some amusement while we spend our evenings gathered around the computer in front of the fireplace just like the Waltons.)

I love that almost every comment from yesterday validated my use of all the words to tell of all the nothing. And so, while I didn’t get too many (or any) orders for my custom-made potholders (coasters? Barbie rugs?), I am secure in knowing that at least some of you don’t mind that I wouldn’t know succinct if it was a dancing squirrel on the internet.

Speaking of rodents, I have a big announcement to make. Santa Claus has secured a Zhu Zhu Pet for Caroline, complete with a hamster house.

I received so many emails informing me of Zhu Zhu Pet sightings at Cracker Barrel, CVS, and even a gas station in Louisiana. Apparently, Toys ‘R Us handed out golden tickets, like some kind of whacked out Willy Wonka, that could be exchanged for a Zhu Zhu Pet at approximately 4 a.m. when the stars aligned perfectly with Saturn or whatever.

It all seemed very mysterious and began to remind me of an old episode of 90210 where Donna and David hear about some super-cool party, but they can only find the location if they take an egg to a convenience store. Did I just make that up or was that an actual episode? And, if so, why did I spend such a good portion of the early 90’s watching a T.V. show with such stupid plot lines?

Says the girl addicted to BravoTV.

Anyway, after I wrote about my quest for the Zhu Zhu and read all the comments that basically said, “Yeah, good luck with that”, I reminded myself that the Christmas season isn’t about the giving and receiving of fake hamsters, took a deep breath and decided that if we were meant to bring home Mr. Squiggles or Num Nums that it would happen.

That calm, peaceful feeling lasted all of two seconds and then the crazy lady inside me who could use a hobby took over. I got on Amazon.com to purchase a Zhu Zhu Pet at a slight markup just in case of emergency. In the words of one commenter, I’d spend at least that much money on gas driving all over town to various Walmarts.

So I bought Chunk because he was the cheapest of the overpriced hamsters. Apparently Chunk, with his white synthetic fur coat, isn’t nearly as desirable as Mr. Squiggles and his realistic tawny coloring that makes him look exactly like a real hamster if real hamsters had wheels instead of paws.

But then I received a fortuitous email from a reader named Stephanie who’d had the foresight to purchase four Zhu Zhu Pets several months ago and only needed three. She said she’d love to send me the extra one in exchange for the $8.00 plus shipping cost, which, YES PLEASE. Anything to save me from being trampled in Walmart and being the subject of an embarrassing headline in the newspaper that would probably read:

“ACCOMPLISHED POTHOLDER WEAVER INJURED IN ZHU ZHU RAMPAGE”

I received Stephanie’s package in the mail the same day I received my package from Amazon. We are currently the proud owners of two Chunks, but not for long since I’m sending the overpriced one back to the land of greedy, price-gougers from whence he came.

To be honest, I thought about keeping them both and giving Caroline a litter of white hamsters for Christmas, but P and I were sitting around with my family after Thanksgiving lunch and my sister asked if I was going to head out to Walmart at the crack of awful to look for a Zhu Zhu. I told her my whole story and that I now had not one BUT TWO Zhu Zhus.

P looked at me from across the room and asked, “How much did you pay for that Zhu Zhu Pet from Amazon?”

“Well, it retails for $8.00.”

“That’s not what I asked. How much did you pay?”

(Dang. He has known me too long.)

“It doesn’t matter because I’m sending it back.”

(Which I wasn’t actually going to do, but I threw it out there because it was better than the shame of admitting in front of my whole family that I’d bought an overpriced hamster and I knew that’s where the conversation was headed. ABORT. ABORT.)

So there will be no family of Zhu Zhus on Christmas morning, but we’ll have a solitary Chunk, complete with hamster house (I bought it off Ebay. It retails for $21.00!), and an exercise wheel.

And I may even weave him a tiny bed with my loom.
A lot of words to say a lot of nothing

Apparently I have a blog.

Huh.

The problem with taking close to a week off to eat myself into a stupor, the likes of which will require an 85 Day Shred Workout DVD before I’ll be able to wear jeans instead of stretchy pants, is that so much has happened, SO MUCH FUN HAS BEEN HAD, that I don’t even know where to begin.

The irony is I read a blog post over the weekend that discussed ten things that bloggers do wrong and I was only slightly surprised that I am guilty of eight out of ten, chief among them being that I use too many words when I write a post. At least now I know that my failure to build any sort of media empire is largely due to my inability to use less words and I’m okay with that because I can’t help myself. As Caroline told me yesterday as we decorated for Christmas, “Mama, the details make everything better!”

Okay, Martha Stewart, hand Mama some more of that ribbon and that sparkly tinsel.

Caroline was out of school all last week so we left for Bryan/College Station with Gulley and her boys the Friday before Thanksgiving. As soon as we drove into town we headed straight to Reed Arena to watch the Aggies play basketball and to purchase three buckets of popcorn so that each child could eat four pieces.

On Saturday we went to Kyle Field before the A&M vs. Baylor game. The kids got their faces painted and then found a prime spot to watch the band and the Corps march in.

Caroline decided to wear her zebra pants which I felt was a good choice since any occasion is more festive when you’re wearing zebra pants. It’s worked for Aerosmith for years.

Then Sunday night we went to Santa’s Wonderland to see the Christmas lights.

But wait, there’s more! (Of course there is. Media empire FAIL.)

Nena came by on Saturday night and brought a shirt that she wanted Honey to try on. She said she’d originally bought it for Uncle Johnny, but it turned out to be a shirt for a woman so she thought Honey might want it because doesn’t every woman want to wear a shirt intended for her older brother?

Here it is. (The model’s head has been cut off because there are limits to what should be on the internet.)

It’s made of fleece and the brand is Bugle Boy. The best part is all of us have figured out a way to contort our bodies when we try on Nena’s clothing offerings to ensure they don’t fit. Gulley called me on it last time by declaring she never knew my arms were so long as I made sure to bunch a jacket up around my shoulders causing the sleeves to be way too short.

Anyway, it turns out that it’s okay that none of us wanted it because Nena’s friend Dorothy Kay said she’ll take it and has plans to cut off the sleeves and turn it into a chic (chick) vest. In the words of Tim Gunn, make it work, Dorothy Kay, MAKE IT WORK.

But enough of all this, let me tell you about the most important development of the past week, my new talent. I may never reach the heights of success with my faux media empire, but I’ve discovered I can weave a potholder like a son of a gun. Thirty years ago, when I was a wee young member of Brownie Troop 4032, I managed to weave a few potholders with some modicum of success. However, I always struggled when you had to tie off the edges so that you could actually take it off the loom.

WELL, Gulley and I decided to take the kids to Michaels to buy them each some type of craft to entertain them since the weather was wet and cold outside. Caroline chose (with perhaps a little direction from me in the form of saying “LOOK AT THIS LOOM! DON’T YOU WANT TO MAKE POTHOLDERS?) a weaving loom.

Look! It includes everything you need for only $6.99 plus tax!

Unfortunately it didn’t include everything we needed because the plastic loom was already broken on one end when I opened the box. I was too lazy to return it, but thankfully it didn’t hinder my potholder-making abilities.

Much.

The kids sat at the table and did their crafts for approximately eight minutes, but I totally got sucked into the loom. In fact, I kept the loom by my side the rest of the weekend and worked tirelessly to create four potholders of less than mediocre quality. I’m considering opening up my own Etsy shop because I believe there may be high demand for homemade woven potholders that are smaller than my hand.

Maybe I could market them as coasters.

Or rugs for Barbie’s dreamhouse since I’m pretty sure that’s what I used them for back in 1978.

Either way I think this idea holds promise which works out well since I’m up to 857 words on this post and haven’t even gotten to Tuesday. Goodbye Media Empire. Hello Big Mama’s Woven Creations: a woman, her loom, and a dream that wouldn’t die.

And yet I keep on writing with all the words.

Tuesday we went down to the ranch and spent time with some friends.

Caroline and her friend, S, went deer hunting with P. I can’t believe that they didn’t scare off every deer in a fifteen mile radius due to all the giggling, but they managed to get one.

Then we sat around the campfire and ate S’mores.

I spent most of Wednesday making desserts and some other stuff for Thanksgiving lunch while P and Caroline stayed at the ranch.

And then, FINALLY (970 words) it was Thanksgiving Day.

Caroline and her cousin Sarah continued the time-honored tradition of the kids’ table.

You may notice that Sarah chose to dine on the more traditional Thanksgiving meal of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a side of goldfish crackers. She’s a gourmet.

That night we watched the Aggie game.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Except for this. (Seriously, I CANNOT stop the words.) I kept saying that if we won I wouldn’t gloat or rub it in, but I feel that I should confess that I would have totally gloated. In fact, when we were only down by a few points with mere minutes left to play, I’d already devised a plan for Caroline to wear her Aggie sweatshirt to school every day next week to torment her very Longhorn teacher.

I may have even considered weaving her a maroon and white potholder.

I’m not saying it’s right. It’s just who I am.

Love,
Melanie
Big Mama’s Woven Creations
Founder, Craftsman and Owner
May your turkey be plentiful

We just rolled back into town yesterday after spending a great weekend in Bryan, TX and have big plans to spend the rest of the week making some memories and enjoying family and friends.

I hope y’all do the same.

Happy Thanksgiving!
Makes your eyes light up and your tummy say howdy

On Friday, the first grade at Caroline’s school had their very own Thanksgiving Feast. This is not to be confused with the feast they had in the cafeteria earlier in the week that involved very tough turkey and nary any sort of cutting utensil to be found.

The feast on Friday was just for the first graders and each class was asked to contribute various things. I’m the homeroom mom (I know. I can’t even believe it myself. Rumor has it I actually have to come up with some crafts for them to do at the Christmas party.) so I sent out an email to the parents in the class with a list of items we’d need for the feast.

Fortunately, we have really great parents and they quickly volunteered for everything we needed with the exception of pies. My co-homeroom mom and I agreed that we’d just take care of the pies so, when I picked up Caroline from school earlier in the week, I asked her what kind of pies she’d like me to make for the Thanksgiving Feast and she informed me that she’d like a cherry pie and a shoofly pie.

I’d only heard of a shoofly pie thanks to the musical stylings of the late Dinah Shore, but when I told Caroline I wasn’t sure how to make a shoofly pie she told me to “go look it up on the google”. I informed her that when I was her age the only way I could have found out how to make a shoofly pie would have involved something called an “Encyclopedia” because we didn’t have computers or “the google”. She said, “Yeah, but they didn’t even have electricity when you were little”.

I think she has the 1970’s confused with an episode of Little House on the Prairie.

Ultimately, I did indeed find a recipe for shoofly pie using Google, but decided that I didn’t have the time nor the inclination to make two homemade pies for a first grade Thanksgiving feast that was going to consist of some turkey roll-ups, chex party mix, and carrots with ranch dressing. So I went to Central Market and bought a chocolate cream pie from the bakery and this.

The night before the feast, I pulled it out of the freezer and began to open the box. Caroline walked in, noticed what I was doing and exclaimed, “Oh! So that’s how you make a homemade cherry pie!”

And I replied, “Yes. Yes it is.”

I just thought y’all might want my recipe.

Disclaimer: Dinah Shore never sang a song about Mrs. Callender’s frozen pies. But I think she totally would have if she’d ever tried one.